


Despite the Worlds

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgardian Tony Stark, BAMF Loki (Marvel), Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Feels, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Frostiron Bingo Round 1, Hopeful Ending, Interrogation, Jotunheim Won the War, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Kissing, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Lies, Loki (Marvel) to the rescue, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Protective Loki (Marvel), Protective Tony Stark, Secret Relationship, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Feels, Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24214021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Caught creeping through the Palace of Jötunheim in the middle of the night, Anthony is facing execution. Luckily… not every Jötunn wants him dead.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 33
Kudos: 325





	Despite the Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> For my FI Bingo:  
>  **Square O1** — _AU: Odin lost against the Jötnar._

Anthony gasped as he was hurled to the floor before the imposing, frost-bitten throne, his hands scrapping in the ice on the ground. He wasn’t dressed for the temperature– even for an Aesir, the frozen world of Jötunheim was far too much to bear, the power of the Casket of Ancient Winters making it so very, very cold that even the Jötnar wore thick fur cloaks over their shoulders.

Still, despite the discomfort, Anthony knew that it would be taken as a threat should he so much as lift his head.

And he couldn’t afford to be seen as a threat. Not as a lone Aesir, found wandering the halls of the Palace of Jötunheim in the dead of the night.

No.

If they thought he was a threat, he would be executed on the spot.

Anthony shuddered as he felt the harsh gaze of the King on the back of his neck, fear chasing through every vein. Every Aesir born in the last thousand years had been told bedtime stories of Laufey, the tyrant who had utterly destroyed the last Allfather’s army and plunged Asgard into the dark ages that they currently faced.

Well, there were some Aesir who claimed that their lot wasn’t so bad, that at least since Odin had fallen they were no longer ordered to wars that were not theirs to fight. That Asgard may not be as prosperous as before, but that did not mean that Asgard was _suffering._

But those… usually fell silent soon enough. Anyone who said anything against King Thor’s sequence of events and quietly vowed retribution upon their conquerors tended to fall silent.

But, anyway—

Anthony had never cared about the politics. He was a smith, he cared only about his craft. He’d travelled to other worlds to better it as well as he could, using secret pathways he had discovered that ran through the very fabric of the world in order to avoid the restriction Laufey had placed upon any Asgardian leaving their own Realm.

That was how he had met…

Well.

That’s how he’d ended up in _this_ goddamn situation in the first place.

“Who are you?” Unlike Asgardian politicians, it seemed that Laufey was not one to speak prettily, cutting straight to the chase.

“My name is Anthony Howardson,” Anthony replied quickly, knowing it would only be foolish to lie. “I mean no harm to you, your people, or your realm.”

Anthony’s position meant that he couldn’t see King Laufey, but he heard the Jötunn shift in his seat.

“Do excuse me if I find that difficult to believe,” Laufey hissed. “You were found sneaking through the castle in the dead of the night, _Asgardian._ Why were you here?”

Anthony swallowed. He uh, actually didn’t have a very good answer to that. At least, not one that would be accepted. Not one that probably wouldn’t get him killed.

So.

He was just going to have to wing it.

“I don’t suppose there’s a chance I could request my own interrogator?” Anthony asked, fighting to keep his voice level. “Not that I’m not flattered you would question me yourself at this hour, your highness—”

“You will _answer the question,”_ Laufey snapped. “You are wearing down my patience, and what little time is left of your life.”

“That’s a bit premature,” Anthony pointed out. His neck was starting to ache, and he was pretty sure his fingers were just about frozen. “I mean, you don’t have all the information yet, you can’t already be thinking up a sentence. And here I’d heard that Jötnar were more just than Aesir, yet so far I have to say I’ve been disappointed. Honestly, if this were an inn, I’d ask to see the man in charge and put in a stern word of complaint—”

“Your complaint is noted,” Laufey said dryly– and the tone was so goddamn _familiar_ that Tony wondered if Laufey were rolling his eyes. But, now was not the time for such things, as Laufey was unfortunately not done talking. “However, I doubt you will have much luck with it. If you cannot provide an adequate answer, then it will be the axe.”

Finally, Anthony looked up. He didn’t straighten all the way, just sat back on his frozen, aching knees– but it was still far more than propriety allowed. He dared to meet Laufey’s crimson gaze, and he held it with a certain amount of bravery he was not sure he actually possessed.

But he knew that he needed to do this.

He knew he couldn’t tell the truth.

Because he wasn’t the only person on the line here, and… he _refused_ to let the consequences fall upon the one who mattered the most to him.

So he held his head high, he tilted up his chin, and he spoke his own death sentence.

“I cannot tell you what I was doing,” he said. “I suppose you could say that I swore an oath of silence, a vow of utmost secrecy. And despite what you may think of Aesir, I promise you, I take my word _very_ seriously. I will not betray the one who asked I give it, not even to save my own skin.”

Laufey watched him for a moment, almost appearing surprised.

But then, he _laughed._

“Oh, you Asgardians can be amusing,” he said, his booming chuckles still causing Anthony’s knees to shake. “I am afraid all you have done is alert me to another traitor in my midst. Rest assured that they will be found, and that they will join you soon.”

Anthony’s eyes widened as he realised that there really was no turning back from here. And in that moment, there were many things that Anthony could have said.

He could have spat out that Laufey would come to regret this, that the consequences of killing Anthony would come to bite him in the ass even if he never learned the truth. He could have _told_ the truth, knowing that it would at least buy him some time– but it would likely still result in the same, and he would certainly be dragging all that mattered down with him.

He could have sworn and cursed, he could have struggled and fought. But as a Jötunn stepped forward with a sharp blade of ice, Anthony knew that if he did anything of the sort… it would only prove him a coward.

A selfish coward who imposed his sentence not only upon himself, but also upon the one he loved most.

And that was not something that Anthony could ever bring himself to do.

So he held himself firm until his executioner gripped his hair, forced his head forward again so that his neck was at the perfect angle to be sliced in two.

Then Anthony closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath, bringing to mind a pleasant memory of a gentle smile and a soft, tender touch—

“Stop!”

Anthony felt himself freeze at the desperate cry, his eyes squeezing shut. It was likely just his imagination, a final hope—

But then he felt the air move around him, heard the thud of a body being thrown to the ground. And when Anthony dared to look up, his eyes widened in pure shock.

There was a Jötunn standing in front of him, his posture very clearly protective. And despite only seeing him from the back, Anthony knew exactly who he was in an instant.

_Loki._

He was the eldest of Laufey’s sons, and yet the smallest– though Anthony knew that Jötnar held the opposite view to physical size than did the Aesir. You see, the purple blood of a Jötnar runs thick with magic, and that magic either presents itself as physical size, or… as seiðr.

For a Jötnar, Prince Loki was very small– and he was very, very powerful.

So when he stood in front of Anthony with his hands held firmly before him as if he were ready to cast another spell, every Jötunn in the throne room stopped and _stared._

Even the king gave pause.

“What is the meaning of this?” Laufey asked, his voice beyond terse. “My son, this man is an enemy of Jötunheim —”

“Anthony Howardson was in the castle under _my_ orders,” Loki said, speaking quickly in a tone that left no room for argument. “He is a renowned smith, and despite his birthplace he makes the best weapons in the Nine. I wished for him to test the defences of the palace. I would say that his capture has proven our defences adequate, however– how far in did he get, exactly?”

Anthony’s breath caught as he listened to every word– to every _lie._

Laufey, meanwhile, merely continued to consider his son with narrowed eyes, but Loki found his answer in the would-be executioner his seiðr had thrown to the floor.

“He was found outside the doors to your private wing, sire,” the Jötunn said.

Loki let out an incredulous laugh. “That far? He reached the very heart of the castle before you managed to catch him? A single, unarmed, unarmoured Aesir? There is certainly something to be realised here of our defences, and I think it is closer in taste to shame than pride.”

The Jötunn, along with the others in the room, seemed to shrink back a little– but Laufey remained unimpressed.

“You ordered an Aesir inside our castle without asking nor even warning me?” Laufey demanded. “You may be a prince, but I am the king—”

“And you did an excellent job at delegating your duties to your sons, would you not agree, Father?” Loki interrupted- and as he did so, Anthony had to hold his breath. “You charged me with keeping the defences of this palace, and of the whole of Jötunheim as strong as they possibly can be. By ordering this Asgardian to test them, was I not merely doing the task that you assigned to me?”

There was beat of silence, a moment where it felt like the entire throne room held its breath. And then—

“Very well,” Laufey said. “Then _you_ will be the one to take him away, and deal with him. In a manner which will _ensure_ none of our secrets will be leaked, of course– and then you will see to it that the hole he found in our defences will be patched.”

“Do not worry, father,” Loki said, finally lowering his hands and bowing his head. “You can leave that with me.”

Laufey nodded once more, and at that, Anthony noticed a certain amount of tension leak from the Jötunn prince’s shoulders. Not so much that anyone else would have noticed, but–it was rather clear that Loki had not entirely believed that his ruse would work.

And yet… he’d done it anyway.

Anthony forced the thought from his mind. There was no point in thinking on what _might_ have happened.

But, then.

Maybe he’d become too optimistic too soon.

For right as Loki was about to turn away, Laufey rose from this throne and descended the steps, gesturing for everyone else to leave with him as he did so. And as he passed Loki, he paused to speak to him in a low tone.

“You know that I do not take kindly to lies, my son,” he said– and although his tone was not aggressive, it was certainly not _kind._ “If your reason is what I believe… then you have a very long, and very hard road ahead of you.”

A shudder ran through Anthony’s body, and from the look of it, Loki experienced the same.

Then Laufey leaned back, and turned his eyes upon Anthony. The moment was brief, yet in the short time Anthony felt as if he were being torn apart, every inch of him assessed through a lens he wasn’t sure he liked. But it was over quickly, and then Laufey was turning away, exiting the throne room on the heels of all the other Jötnar.

Anthony let out an incredibly long breath. “Holy _shit,”_ he said. “Okay, that was close. Thanks for the save—”

“The _save?”_ Loki’s words were a hiss– and Anthony gasped as he was gripped by his shoulders and all but wrenched to his feet. “Anthony, you were a _moment_ from execution! Do you not understand how close you came to—” his voice broke off with a rough crack, and it was then that Anthony saw just how _scared_ Loki looked. His red eyes were blown wide, his blue skin a few shades paler than normal. His breathing was rough, and– Anthony realised that Loki really must have been holding on by a thread during his entire conversation with his father.

Slowly, Anthony reached up with his hand, and brushed his fingers over Loki’s cheek.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m all right. You _did_ save me, you got here in time. I’m fine.”

“But you almost _weren’t.”_ The last word broke into a groan– and then Loki’s arms were around Anthony and clutching him close, Loki’s face burying into Anthony’s shoulder. “You almost weren’t.”

Anthony sighed, and held his lover just as tightly. They’d known ever since they’d first started to become friends on Alfheim that any kind of connection between them would be near impossible, and as they’d fallen in love over months and years and decades of clandestine meetings, they’d always known that they were walking along the blade of a knife.

Any slip would mean death– and Anthony had slipped so very hard that night.

He’d broken into the palace many times before, and Loki had likewise crept into Asgard– but this was the first time that either of them had ever been _caught._

And if Loki hadn’t come when he had, well, Anthony really would have been—

Though… hmm.

Maybe there was something of a silver lining?

“Your father seems to know, now,” Anthony said, the words were interspersed with a wince. “Sorry, about that. But he didn’t seem entirely opposed—”

“Not entirely opposed is still a very different thing to being _supportive,”_ Loki groaned.

“Well, yeah, but. Surely he wants you to be happy, maybe he can—”

“He can do nothing, Anthony. The situation has not changed.”

“He’s the king, though,” Anthony insisted, feeling a little desperate. “Can’t he just—”

“You know that this world is not the same as yours,” Loki replied. “My father wields only the power that he is granted by the will of the people. If he goes against the wishes of the many, then they will find themselves a new king.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem very efficient,” Anthony groaned, the disappointment hitting him hard. For a moment, just a moment… he’d thought that there might have been a way out.

“Perhaps not,” Loki said with a shrug. “But nor is a system that forces an entire realm to kneel at the feet of a blonde buffoon.”

Anthony couldn’t help snorting at that. He’d always enjoyed Loki’s descriptions of the young King of Asgard.

Loki smiled in response– and then he sighed, and pressed his lips to the top of Anthony’s head.

“It is dangerous to continue the way we have been,” he whispered– and Anthony prepared himself for an argument, but. Then– “But I would have it no other way. Anthony, I understand if you do not wish to continue being with me after this, but if you will have me, I swear that I will do my best to—”

Anthony cut Loki off by pressing their lips together, kissing him with enough passion to make him groan. Loki’s lips were always cold, but Anthony had never minded– he enjoyed the way they felt against his, and he smiled into the kiss as Loki began to kiss him back.

When the kiss broke – and only for want of air – Anthony made sure that they remained close, continuing to hold his partner’s gaze.

“I love you,” he said. “Loki, to me, any amount of risk is worth us being able to stay together. Hell, I’d fight Thor and Laufey at the same time and _with my bare hands_ if it meant that we could just, be together in _peace.”_

“I love you too,” Loki whispered, his voice a cold breath over Anthony’s heated skin. “And I’ll stand by you. Whatever happens next.”

At that, Loki held him tighter, kissed him harder, clutched him so close Anthony wondered if Loki ever planned to let go.

He certainly hoped that he didn’t—

For if it were up to Anthony, he would have been happy to stay in that moment forever.

But the world is simply not that kind.


End file.
